


Enough is Not Enough

by Virtuella



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, I Love You Scene (Sherlock: The Final Problem), Light Angst, Post-Finale, Sherlolly - Freeform, Sherrinford aftermath, gapfiller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 22:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virtuella/pseuds/Virtuella
Summary: Did Eurus simply bluff in the coffin scenario? Or was her plan far more sinister? What did she mean when she said she wouldn't be so clumsy? Only on his return home does Sherlock realise what may have happened and what surely would have brought his world crushing down.





	Enough is Not Enough

**Author's Note:**

> We all need closure on this whole thing with Molly, don't we? I couldn't sleep, so here it is. Usual disclaimers apply.

The river lay behind her, trailing pale, limp weeds in its sable waters. She had already decided to go back home and was heading across the park when John's text reached her.

**Are you safe?**

_Yes, why?_

**Oh, good. We're safe now, too.**

_What do you mean? What happened?_

**Kidnapped by a psychopath. A right demon from hell. She forced Sherlock to make that terrible phone call.**

**Molly, you still there?**

**Molly?**

_She threatened to kill him?_

**No, she threatened to kill you.**

**Molly?**

**You all right, Molly?**

_Yes. Thanks for letting me know. See you._

When she arrived at her flat, she found the door unlocked. There was only one other person who had a key. She braced herself and went in.

He sat on the sofa, clenching his knees with both hands, staring at the jumble of books and magazines on the coffee table.

"Molly." It was a mere whisper. "Be so good and sit here beside me. I have something to say."

She perched on the edge, as far from him as possible.

"You don't have to apologise, Sherlock. John texted me and told me what happened."

"I'm not here to apologise. I'm here to explain."

"John has already explained –"

"Oh, what can John explain? He doesn't even begin to understand. He thought the coffin was for Irene Adler!"

"What coffin?"

"There was a coffin, Molly. A coffin meant for you; and my sister – don't ask; I'll get to that later – my sister had already killed five people at that point, so I wasn't going to assume she was bluffing. She said she would blow up your flat. As she had already blown up mine, I had every reason to believe her. She gave me three minutes. I guess that's what John told you?"

"Kind of."

"But he couldn't tell you the rest, because he doesn't know. When I realised that coffin was for you, I was more scared than I've ever been in my life. I could feel my brain freeze up. My sister gave me the choice: either to watch you die or to … violate you. I knew it meant to destroy all the trust and respect between us. But I had to do it. You understand that, Molly, don't you?"

"I already said, you don't need to apologise."

"You are generous, as usual. But I need you to understand." He briefly grasped his head between his hands. "I need you to understand why I am still scared. I was prepared to be cruel, because what mattered most was that you should live. I was prepared to have you hate me, as long as you walked out of there alive."

"You made the right choice; I don't blame you."

"Something happened, though, Molly. Something…"

He still wasn't looking at her. She waited.

"You told me you couldn't say those three words to me, and I wasn't allowed to tell you that you had to say them to save your life. You said you couldn't say them because they were true, and I already knew that, of course I knew that, but what I didn't know…"

She waited.

"…what I didn't know was…what I didn't know until they left my mouth was that these words were just as true when I said them."

She didn't know what to say. She stared at her hands in her lap.

"And there it is, Molly: It took my psychopathic sister to tickle it out of me, but I love you. Always have, maybe. It's terrifying."

"Because it makes you vulnerable? But people have known for a long time that they could get at you through John and –"

"John can defend himself! But that's not the point. I mean, it is  _a_  point, sure, but it's not  _the_  point."

"What is  _the_  point then?"

"I'm terrified of myself. I don't know what to do. I am sitting here choking,  _choking_ , Molly, on raw feelings and I have no idea what to do with them. What shall I do? I feel like I'm holding a naked blade; what if it cuts you?"

"You think you've not cut me before?"

"I have, I know I have, I'm so sorry, Molly, I never wanted to cause you pain and then I did again and again, I'm so, so sorry, but this is…I don't know what to do…"

She stretched out a trembling hand and clasped his fingers.

"You don't have to do anything, Sherlock. Just knowing is enough for me."

"No, it's not enough!" Now he looked at her. "I don't want you just to have  _enough_. I want you to have glorious happiness because, as I told you before, you deserve it. I want you to have all the happiness you've ever dreamed of, and now look at me, look at the mess I am, how could I, how could  _I_ –"

"Sherlock, listen to me!" She framed his face with both her hands. "Listen. When I was with Tom, I had all the things that people call happiness. The butterflies in the stomach, the candle-lit dinners, that status of being a couple, the diamond ring. Lots of sex. I met all his friends and family. I had made sure my Facebook status let the world know I was in a relationship. But it was a lie, Sherlock. It was a lie; that's why I ended it. I don't need any of that again. No, really, I don't. I don't need to be Sherlock Holmes's girlfriend; I don't need the Valentine's card, all those trappings. As long as I know that I have your heart, and that you don't pity me or despise me–"

"I have never despised you!"

"Shsh! I said listen! I used to think I wanted these things. I used to fantasise about you asking me out, the kisses, the ring, the wedding, you know, all the stuff girls dream of. But now? After all we've been through? No, I think I can live without that. What I couldn't live with was the thought that I would be so humiliated in your eyes. That was –"

"What do you mean, you couldn't live with it?"

For the first time since he had turned to look at her, she averted her eyes.

"Earlier on, when I was out…"

"What?"

"I stood on the bridge. I looked down at the river and thought how easy it would be."

**_There were no explosives in her little house. Why would I be so clumsy? You didn't win, you lost. Look what you've done to her._ **

"Molly!" He hugged her tight. "Oh, Molly. But you didn't."

"No. I didn't want you to have that on your conscience. You would have blamed yourself; I know that much. So I decided I'd rather soldier on than leave you to deal with that."

His cheek was pressed against hers and she felt the tears. His voice was hoarse.

"Molly Hooper. How could you ever think that I didn't adore you? How could  _I_ ever think that?"

She made a stifled little noise, halfway between a chuckle and a sob.

"The evidence was against it, Sherlock."

"No, it wasn't. The evidence for it was there the whole time; I was just too much of an idiot to read it correctly."

He released her from his embrace and peered at her face.

"Are these your tears or mine?" He wiped a fingertip across her face, then sniffed it.

This time it was definitely a chuckle.

"I don't think you can deduce anything here."

"Ah, but I can. The evidence of your eyelashes and mine proves that we have both shed tears. There may be actors who can fake tears, but most people can't. I certainly can't and I'm pretty sure neither can you. These are genuine tears, because we've finally been honest with ourselves and with each other. I'm still scared and I still don't know what to do, but if it's okay with you, Molly Hooper, I will make this proposal: This newly-discovered heart of mine belongs to you, no rivals, no expiry date, and I promise I will guard and cherish yours as best I can. We can see where that leads us, by and by. What do you say?"

"I love you."

"Just that?"

"Yes."

"Good. You still owe me two, though."

"No, I don't."

"I said it four times!"

"You said it twice."

"No, no, no. Fair enough, if you don't want to count the first, yes, that was just the instructions. But the second time, even though I didn't realise it until afterwards – oh, you know what, I don't care. I love you, I love you, see if you can keep up with me, I love you, I love you, I love you, are you still counting, I love –"

It was necessary to shut him up. She leaned forward. There have been less awkward kisses in history, but few, if any, have been so truly satisfying.

"I'll get better at this," he murmured eventually.

"No doubt."

"Do you want me to say it again?"

"Maybe not today."

"Maybe not. I must go anyway. Mycroft only allowed me half an hour. I suppose that makes him the better sibling by a factor of ten."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I shall see you tomorrow and tell you the whole gruesome tale. Good-bye, my Molly."

"I love you, Sherlock," she said to the room at large after he was out the door. She had lost her job that morning because the management had finally found out about her various favours for Sherlock, and damned if she knew who had made the anonymous complaint. She'd come home to find a letter from her landlord giving her notice. Sherlock's call had left her in quivering anguish and she had been close to drowning herself this afternoon, but it had turned out in the end to be the best day ever. No, the best day yet. She would see what else was in store for her, by and by.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: While there is a fair portion of wishful thinking involved in my writing of this story, I do believe it is amply supported by textual evidence. I will not repeat what many others have undertaken, namely to explain at length how very plausible it is that Sherlock a) truly loves Molly and b) only becomes aware of this during the terrible phone call. However, I have not seen anyone discussing the intended effect of the scenario on Molly. Yet it seems fairly clear to me that Eurus's plan was to drive Molly to suicide. She announces that Molly was about to die but states that she wouldn't be so clumsy to rig Molly's flat with explosives. This indicates that she has a more subtle method. Sherlock claims he has won the round because "I saved Molly Hooper" but Eurus tells him that, no, he has lost, i.e. he has not saved her. It's a mind game truly worthy of Eurus. She set it up so the thing that Molly has pined for all these years is presented to her as a poison pill. Molly is already in distress when Sherlock calls. Could it be mere coincidence that she is "not having a good day" or has Eurus pulled some strings to get Molly into trouble? In the previous episode, there is a conversation between Sherlock and Eurus about suicide in which he mentions that "our death is something that happens to other people." What better way to break Sherlock than to force him to confront his feelings for Molly and in the very same step destroy her because the set-up is such that she cannot possibly believe him? Even if he escaped from Eurus's clutches, returning home to find a dead Molly would likely push him over the edge (especially considering the way he smashed up the coffin). And yet at the end of the episode we see Molly not only alive but radiant. She is made from sterner stuff than Eurus expected and resisted the allure of suicide, because she did not want her death to happen to Sherlock. That accounts for her being alive, but not for her being radiant. Only one thing could account for that, namely that she and Sherlock have come to an understanding, though probably not a conventional one. QED


End file.
